


the life and times of scrooge mcduck

by hearmyvoice



Series: Team Uncle Week 2020 [1]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics)
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Kid Donald Duck, Parent Scrooge McDuck, Sick Character, Team Uncle Week, Team Uncle Week 2020 (Disney), Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26710126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearmyvoice/pseuds/hearmyvoice
Summary: Scrooge was an adventurer, that's right. He travels all over the world in the search for the most worthy treasures and cursed objects he was aware of. However, the worthiest treasure is waiting for him, always expecting to know the new tale before sleeping.
Relationships: Donald Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Flintheart Glomgold & Scrooge McDuck, Hortense McDuck & Scrooge McDuck
Series: Team Uncle Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943812
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30
Collections: Team Uncle Week 2020





	the life and times of scrooge mcduck

**Author's Note:**

> day 1. bedtime story.

Scrooge was panting heavily, the rocky feel of the damp cave in which he was cool under his spats as the shivering from its destruction nipped at his heels, pebbles and drops of water spraying his sweaty, dusty body like rain, feeling that only stoked the adventurer as the buzz in his hands, a product of the treasure he had found , reminded him of the new find that would conquer the headlines for a few days, maybe weeks if he managed to impress the press enough – which by the way, it wouldn't be difficult after dealing with it most of his life .

Behind him he could hear the footsteps and cheers of the scoundrels who were chasing him, a feigned Gaelic accent standing out among all of the intensity with which they shouted and the drama that they dragged in their words, spouting a string of rude words in Scottish and English that he would not dare to even repeat in his mind, even now that he will have a small and innocent sidekick under his wing very soon.

But he was forced to stop when the ground began to shake, some cracks forming on his feet. He literally didn't remember that when he first entered the cave, but he had to assume it was because he took the treasure. It wasn't the first time he'd faced a consequential breakdown, but where was the interest if there wasn't a little adrenaline rush? And Scrooge was not one to back down from adrenaline.

Smiling with self-satisfaction he thundered his neck, Glomgold's footsteps and voice increasing in volume only inciting the adventurer further. Fortunately, it was not the first time he had found himself in this type of scenario, and he smiled when he recognized the path insensitive to his weight.

Easy peasy. And Scrooge was being very modest at the moment.

"Stop right there, Scroogie!" He ordered, a temple and determination palpable on his voice in spite of the force applied to thick his accent. It hadn't been long before a monologue began about the recognition he would gain from presenting Scrooge's discovery as his own.

Saying your absurd schemes out loud, rookie mistake. He dared to think, huffing for a few seconds before beginning to calculate his steps.

It was not easy, the stone was incredibly sensitive to pressure, and the small stones falling from the ceiling caused him to lose concentration for a moment and almost made him step on cracked areas, not to mention that the precious gem of the treasure in his hands clinked and hummed, but Scrooge was no sharper than the sharpies for taking missteps, and he smiled readily at the challenge ahead.

"Explosives!" We must use explosives! That will bring down the cave, and lock up Scrooge and the treasure,” he exclaimed with a laugh that bounced off the walls, and Scrooge grinned sarcastically.

_"And he did?"_

Scrooge opened his eyes, feeling a small weight in his lap that released him from his reverie and made him look down. His little nephew had taken advantage of his self-absorption in the story to support his head, and while the Scotch duck used to be reluctant at any contact – which was expected of a man who has been the victim of multiple metaphorical stabs in the back, he had certainly become aware of how much the duckling enjoyed any opportunity to show him that he loved and trusts him.

Furthermore, it was impossible to deny something to those precious little sapphire eyes that were staring at him in utter amazement despite exhaustion, and how to blame him? His bedtime was approaching; and with the fevering duckling, he was prone to falling asleep faster.

And it was hideously adorable to feel at the mercy of a child who at the tender age of four was still sucking his thumb, but it was his favorite part of caring for his nephew as Hortense and Quackmore came out to answer when SHUSH called them.

Even if that didn't mean that he deprived himself of caring for his little sister.

"Of coorse he didnae!" He yelled, laughing at the questioning gaze of his nephew, "do ye think if Ah had Ah woold still be here?"

Jubilant, he poked the duckling's chubby stomach and took the opportunity to give small tickles, delighting in the little exhaled laugh. He took the moment to put his hand on the boy's forehead, removing the now warm cloth and using it to dry the water and sweat that was there.

"Wow, it seems the temperature is dropping," he commented, seeing out of the corner of his eye the satisfied smile that crept over the boy's face as he puffed out his chest.

It certainly seemed touching and reminded her to some extent of him.

"Of course, I'm Donald Duck. If Unca Scrooge can take on the world and win, maybe I can too."

And apparently, the boy took him for inspiration. It was smart and touching if he dared to think about it.

"Well, to be able to face the world, there first you must fight this little fever, and to do that you have to take your medicine," he said watching the clock, knowing in advance that the boy must do it before bedtime, so he took with gentleness the boy in his arms to sit him properly on his bed.

He knew that Hortense was very strict when it came to schedules, particularly those that involved her son's health, so he approached the bedside table with Donald's different medicines and the glass of water that Duckworth had diligently left before, ignoring his nephew's wince.

"But Unca Scrooge!" He rose suddenly, trying not to think about the sound of his voice hoarse against the sudden dizziness that left his trembling legs and blinked while hearing his uncle rebuke him for his carelessness, then looked at him with wonder "you still haven't finished telling the story, what happened in the cave?"

But turning his back on him, Scrooge snorted, smiling knowingly as he took the spoon that corresponded to the portion of the flu medicine the boy had to ingest. Of course, the little imp would find an excuse to distract him and make him forget to give the med. It was not the first time he had tried that ruse; but he was never victorious, even when Hortense had to keep him company and it was only Quackmore who had to answer the agency's call.

"Well, there Ah was, literally winning easily because Glomgold hadnae counted on a little unforeseen that got in the way of his…" He thought about the word for a few seconds because he couldn't really think of the other duck's trick as a _scheme_ "absurd plan."

" _And can you tell where you'll get explosives from in just a few minutes?_ " Commented one of his rival's occasional accomplices. He could easily deduce that it was a young lass, perhaps with more common sense than her employer's, and he clicked his tongue at the irony of the situation.

Unfortunately, he couldn't gloat over his impromptu victory. The cave kept collapsing, and the power with which the other businessduck used to speak did not lengthened the process at all.

The light emanating from the jewel in his hands became more powerful and lasting, making it difficult for Scrooge to see and concentrate, but those moments became fleeting when he had already dealt with the treasures for years, and he preferred to concentrate on the cave, recognizing that it would be the end in the first misstep.

But Glomgold and his lackeys were hot on his heels and knew he must think and act quickly. Fortunately, it was not the first time he had found himself in such a situation, and he smiled with fierce determination as he cracked his neck, ready for one more run.

However, the moment he took the first step, a small snore and a weight on his chest brought him out of his thoughts once again, and Scrooge looked down to see Donald snuggled against his torso, his small head resting on his chest. He was sleeping soundly, smiling warmly as his uncle's constant heartbeat lulled him, and Scrooge couldn't help a small laugh as his wing stroked the soft yellow hair feathers, slightly pale from the sickness.

Honestly, the duck did not know whether to be insulted by seeing his little nephew doze as he recounted his anecdote - despite his reluctance to approach him after making him take his medicine and his exhaustion turned more evident, or marvel at how fragile and defenseless the duckling wore as he clung to his coat, dressed in his favorite sailor pajamas.

It was hard to believe he was the same little boy who inherited his temperament as much as Quackmore and Hortense's .

But looking at it on the bright side, she could feel Donald's not-so-feverish forehead, though he wouldn't deny that the lad still needed to be checked occasionally.

He took the boy carefully, delighting in watching him snuggle into his arms as he used to when he was just a few months old. It was incredible to Scrooge how his interest in keeping the imp happy and protected outweighed his interest in gold, a fact previously considered impossible by the billionaire.

But this life was much more precious and valuable than the treasures that were locked up in his garage. He recognized it by appreciating his bright blue eyes staring at him in amazement, or the way his chest rose and fell in rhythm with each sleeping breath.

A warm smile came over his face and, after making sure they were alone - which was not difficult since he didn't hear any footsteps from Duckworth, he planted a small kiss on Donald's forehead. Maybe it was not strange for the butler to witness his expressions of affection toward the child, even Scrooge had seen him depositing small kisses on the duckling's head and accepting his invitations to the various games that his childish imagination proposed, but Scrooge was more comfortable sharing the moments he could alone with the boy and allowing himself to let his guard down with him.

What the Scotsman did not notice, however, was Donald slightly opening one of his eyes, smiling sleepily as he felt his uncle's pampering before snuggling further into his uncle's arms. His interest in knowing how the story ended was there, but his exhaustion was greater. No wonder the ducky fall as soon surrendered his bedtime arrives or that it was sooner when the duck felt sick, Scrooge recognized it; and he knew that as soon as he had enough energy the boy would demand to know the conclusion of the adventure.

Though Scrooge's favorite part was the way the story ended, he thought as he turned off the light and left the night light on before going to the single bed, the duckling sleeping peacefully on his uncle's abdomen.

 _Arriving at the mansion with a satisfied smile, the duck looked at the golden totem._ As soon as he was returning to the mansion, the brilliant sapphire had stopped tinkling and blinding him, allowing him to appreciate the beauty of the treasure now in his possession. Fortunately, his study of it had not detected any referring curses.

He felt triumphant, which, frankly, was not new to the traveler. Taking leaps and bounds towards the main steps of the mansion, the Welsh Duck recognized the ringing of the house phone, and knew that it would not be long until Duckworth answered, to which he chose to take that shower of money that the adventurer so much needed in these moments.

Moments later, the butler would be knocking on his door. "Sir, Mrs. Duck is interested in speaking with you."

"It seems to be important," he added before his employer could speak. For while Scrooge and Hortense rarely spoke - unless the agency was involved, there was something about the butler's tone of voice that puzzled the Scot.

His suspicions took another turn when it was he who answered the call.

"Scrooge!" The aforementioned pushed the phone away from his ear when his younger sister's voice exclaimed from the rooftops, her accent becoming more pronounced than usual. She sounded happy, and that gave him a little insight into the reasons for his call: "the egg is hatching!"

Thus begins another chapter in the history of Scrooge McDuck.

**Author's Note:**

> why these things always looks better in my mind?


End file.
